Newsletter

Brian Thompson: A week for mothers

And now the day in which we give many thanks to moms everywhere. (And try to do something nice, like make a huge Mother’s Day mess in the kitchen that mom will feel obligated to clean up — she knows her family is a bunch of incompetent boobs.)

Happy Mother’s Day! You deserve it!

You really do, moms. You never get the credit you deserve. For taking on the challenge. Shoot, you would have been better off signing up for a polar exploration or a trip to Mars. It would be easier. Less physically demanding. And at some point the mission would end. There’s no retirement in motherhood!

You took the job anyway. Thanks.

But one day to celebrate you?!? Pshaw! It should be a week. A celebration of the stages of motherhood:

Day 1 — For all you bore, lugging us around in the womb. A parasitic bowling ball. That’s what we were. We know it. But did you complain? Never to our faces. You did it with grace. Didn’t charge us rent. Acted like it was the most wonderful thing in the world.

Day 2 — For giving birth to us. The “exit strategy” for bringing a child into the world reads like a horror movie. Doesn’t matter how you spin it. Shoot, I got a giant gumball stuck in my mouth once and just about gave up on life. But you went through with it. You got us out, and many of you still carry the physical scars to this day.

Day 3 — For nourishing us. And not giving us away to gypsies. Come on, admit it. How many times did you think about giving us to gypsies? We were needy, demanding little buggers. My sister-in-law was talking about her 6-month-old son the other day: “I get so excited to see him, and all he does is grab for my breasts.” She laughed it off like moms do.

Day 4 — For your compassion. For being there with the Band-Aids. And a gentle pat on the back. And encouragement.

Day 5 — For your spirit and strength. Because when dads give up trying to get a child to go to bed, you dig in and make it happen. You never throw up your hands and declare it someone else’s problem. You spring into action and show us how it’s done. Usually with a kiss and a smile. Moms, we like that smile.

Day 6 — For driving us everywhere, and making sure our homework got done, and that we didn’t grow up to be heathen children with fleas and ticks and fungus growing all over our bodies like tree bark. We wore nice clothes. We got to school on time. We grew up and got jobs and did OK for ourselves. Little things added up to big things. All thanks to you.

Day 7 — For always believing in us. Even when you didn’t believe in us. Moms never give up hope.

So why not seven days for moms? They deserve it! (Although, that’s also seven days for us to mess up the kitchen, and we know who’ll get stuck cleaning that up.)